Pony Bottle
by Scarlettplay
Summary: *ON HIATUS* AH/AU OOC Edward is 16 yrs younger than his wife, Bella. He has a house full of kids and chaos but he's finally decided what he's destined to become. Can Bella support his choices to start a new path?
1. Chapter 1

**PONY BOTTLE**

**CHAPTER 1: NEW VOICE**

A sweet tiny breath rushes up my arm, and I reach out and pat his little bare bum.

Soft mewls come from his body, and I wrap an arm around him and pull the covers up a little bit so he won't get cold. Crap! We forgot to put a cap on his head. That's supposed to be pretty important.

I crank my head over my shoulder and the bucket of birth supplies seems miles away. Dammit! I don't want to get up. I'm exhausted and Bella's out for the count.

But my baby boy is wriggling around. He's not acting hungry but he's definitely alert and active.

And then I feel it . . . A warm, wet sensation spreading and seeping through the sheets and moistening my stomach.

Little man wet the bed.

I smirk at my luck to be lying in bed with a gorgeous woman and the cutest, chubby baby in the world who pees buckets of fluid.

Yeah, he looks like a reconstituted raisin like all newborns do, but he's my chubby-rumped reconstituted raisin and I love the little booger.

"Hhhhhuuuu uuuuhhhh," I sigh a big breath.

I am not changing these sheets. I won't move Bella and wake her, so, more towels it is. I'm sure there are other fluids on the sheets by now anyway and it will need to be changed in a little bit. I'll wait till Alice shows up and we clean this whole place.

I gingerly roll out of bed and get him a diaper, his cap, the olive oil and a fresh towel.

Very carefully, I generously lube up his genitals and the surrounding area so when he passes some more meconium it will come off easily and not stick to his silken, fresh skin. I cover it with the diaper, put his cap on and then spread the towel over his newly marked territory. I lie back down and place him tummy down on my chest and cover us with a blanket.

This moment is perfect. It's like time stands still as I hear my baby breathe, feel him snuggle into my frame and relax into me.

My hand absentmindedly caresses his impossibly smooth and fragrant skin.

"I love you, son," I whisper, kiss his little head and close my eyes . . .

Welcome to the Cullen clan. Be glad I listened to your mother and she birthed you peacefully at home in the water.

~ooOoo~

_Slurp, slurp, sluuuuuurrrrrrp!_

"Shhhhh . . ." I whine " . . . sleeping, babe."

A soft giggle erupts and my weary eyes open a smidge to see the most radiant beautiful woman I have ever seen breastfeeding what has to be the fattest newborn ever.

I reach out and gently rub his back and Bella beams at me with a softness and tenderness I can't get enough of.

"He's ours," she whispers.

"He's mine. He's on loan to you," I tell her emphatically. "_My_ boy."

"I thought that we shared everything," she teases and looks at me like I'm the most ridiculous man she's ever known. I probably am, but I don't care. That's _my_ boy! I plan to hold him every chance I get and Bogart all of the newborn baby time.

"I don't share your breasts and I don't share my boy. I'm allowing him to eat and you to love on him, but that's it. You _both_ belong to me," I quip. "My equipment."

"Oh, and I guess the fact that I let him live in my womb for nine months gives me no claim on him?"

"Nope. I put him there and I got him out," I taunt her, bragging a little in the process.

"You did not. This labor didn't start from sex," she corrects me. "It broke my water."

Same difference. I roll my eyes at her. _Are we seriously going to argue semantics here?_ "Well, there's always next time," I say with a naughty wink, making light of it.

"_No,_ no next time. We're done." She lays down the law.

"You're only saying that because you just squeezed his fat can out of your body. We're not done, baby, not yet. We just started . . ." I try to convince her. I don't know why but the thought of this being the last baby Cullen really bothers me.

She gives me the look of death like she may lean over and squeeze my groin into submission and obliterate my swimmers.

"Let's not decide on that right now . . . Enjoy the moment," I tell her, cowering every so slightly at the glare she's blasting at me.

Suddenly her demeanor shifts and turns to pain.

"Oh ick! I hate the afterbirth cramps; they're worse than labor!" she moans.

"Want some ibuprofen?" I ask her.

"No . . . I'll be okay. He's got a vacuum for a mouth so it's making the contractions really intense." She closes her eyes and starts doing some deep abdominal breathing.

"You sure?"

She nods her head yes as she concentrates on relaxing.

"Maybe we should go ahead and call Alice since he's nursing well and settled and we've had some time to snooze," I tell her.

She nods her head, and I see her legs stretch and flex, trying to deal with the intense cramping and his strong unwavering suction.

I give Alice a quick call and let her know that we're ready for her onslaught of craziness and manic energy to take over.

It should be interesting to see her reaction to our choice to go it alone. I'm sure she's going to kick me between the legs for leaving her out of the birth.

"We need to name baby D," Bella tells me when I get up and then maneuver in behind her. She shifts forward in the bed, careful not to smother the baby, and I start massaging her back to help her relax.

"I don't think he's baby D. That doesn't sound right to me." Her voice is thoughtful.

"What are you thinking then?" I feel her relax into my touch, and I love knowing that in some small way I'm helping her so she nurse with less stress.

"I don't know. He looks like he owns the place and can conquer the whole damn world with how big he is. How about Alexander the Great," I joke.

"Alec, I like Alec," she says as she tilts her head towards our new seven day lord and master who will run the household.

"Alec . . ." I say, letting it ruminate and roll around on my tongue. "I like it. Okay, Alec it is. Alec, my pudgy Buddha baby."

I give her a kiss on the cheek and keep kneading and working her overtaxed muscles. "You sore, baby? How can I make you more comfortable?"

"I think I want the body pillow from the closet when you get up and I'll need to pee soon. My bladder's getting uncomfortably full but he's not acting like he's going to unlatch anytime soon." She sighs a little with contentment, relieved to not be pregnant any longer.

"Can you blame him? I don't like letting go of those either. Quit being a porn star with those things and then the men in your life will quit hoarding them and fighting over them," I tell her.

"Yeah, Brendon's gonna have to deal with sharing them now," she says, sounding a little overwhelmed.

"He shared them before, he'll do it again," I remind her.

"I know . . . but he was a newborn and didn't have a choice before. Plus, he didn't have a vocabulary so there was no articulating his preference. I'm sure we're going to hear about it now. I've already warned him that if the baby wants to nurse then he'll have to wait until the baby's done. We'll see how well he listens," she says.

The front door is being banged down by what can only be a midget who pretends to be a pixie of a midwife.

"Alice," Bella predicts.

"Let her stew for a bit at the door," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. "I'm too busy enjoying a super model in my bed, who lets me touch her from time to time and occasionally lets me have more," I say with a silly mock, bedroom voice. Waggling eyebrows add to the effect and make Bella giggle. I love seeing her so deliriously happy.

"If she says that I didn't tear, it doesn't mean I'm giving you intimate favors as a celebration of love," she threatens with a delicious smile.

"It sure as heck does," I poke fun at her.

"Answer the damn door before she passes out from exhaustion," Bella insists as she lightly kicks back into my shins.

"Damn, so bossy. What? Did you just give birth or something? Jeesh!" I gripe, playing around.

"Yes, and King Alec says to bring me back a sandwich and a bottle of water," she adds.

"Anymore demands, your highness?" I ask as I caress her back and get in a few more ripe smooches on her cool, slightly dampened neck. She's starting to sweat and get rid of the excess fluids from the pregnancy.

"I'm sure I'll think of something else after you get your sexy butt back in this bed."

"That won't be for a while, 'cause I'm sure Alice will find a million chores for me to do like last time," I tell her. This was why we waited. We wanted time to bond with the new baby and simply _be_.

"Shorts might be a good idea. She doesn't need to see the merchandise," Bella reminds me.

"Why? It's not like she hasn't seen a naked man's parts before," I taunt.

"She hasn't seen yours and that. Is. Mine," she growls.

"Ooooh, I love it when you get possessive of my equipment."

"Door! She's giving me a headache," she says, waving me on like the pest that I am being. I slip on some clothes quickly and trudge my way to the front door.

Alice tackles me the moment I unhinge the door, and she's blubbering and going on about how mean we were to not let her be a part of the experience.

"Damn, little Keebler elf-girl. Calm the hell down. First of all, we didn't want anybody to burst our little bubble of love, and second of all, I . . . _we_, are not apologizing to you or anybody else over the way we chose to have our little guy enter the world," I tell her, setting her straight.

"A boy?" she shrieks, not acknowledging a word I said. "You have another penis in this house? Good gravy, Bella . . ." she yells ". . . you need more estrogen in this house!"

"Jeez, Alice, you trying to make my kid deaf? You already knew it was a boy from the ultrasound. Are you high this evening or what? 'Cause you're acting like a freaking lunatic! Quit yelling, or I won't let you near him," I warn her and even as I'm serious, I'm cracking up because Alice is like a headless chicken with no rhyme or reason to her clucking or racing around. She's setting up her tools and putting a pot of water on the stove to boil.

"Oh shut up! We're family now and you can't tell me what to do. I'm practically your sister-in-law. I'm going to see him eventually," she reminds me. Her elopement with my cousin, Jasper, shocked the hell out of a lot of people. They were engaged for awhile and were making necessary preparations for a big wedding, and then out of nowhere . . . upped and did it without a word. I suspect it was Jasper's doing, not so much Alice's.

Family and friends of theirs were in an uproar over it. Not Bella and me, we figured it was their choice and we would respect it.

We suspected something was up when she suddenly stopped texting and calling us all of the time. It was so odd for her and she seemed almost guilty, like she was hiding something when she finally did call. A week later she spilled and shared their little secret.

"Now, tell me all about the birth," she demands as she goes to town scrubbing her hands like she's about to perform surgery.

I give all of the details I can remember and she soaks in every last word like it's her last meal.

"Wow! You _guys!_ Making babies like grown ups and then playing doctor or some crap." She pretends to wipe a tear out of her eye. "Doctor Cullen, I'm so proud of you!" she squeals, mocking me.

"Oh, shut up. That's my dad's name and I'm not a doctor," I tell her. "I'm . . . man, I'm just a husband, and I love my baby and my wife. That's it." _Why am I so offended that she called me Doctor Cullen?_ It feels off somehow . . .

She scrunches her face up at me and then sticks her tongue out petulantly. "You shut up! You're such a softy, Edward, and I love that about you. It's why I keep you around."

And then she marches straight past me with purpose, and I hear her start cooing to the baby and Bella.

I chuckle at myself and how much fun it is to have Alice in the mix. While she's checking on them, I call to spread the news to the rest of the family, talking to Cori first.

"Is mom okay?" she asks sweetly.

"She's perfect and so is your little brother."

"I wish I could have been there," she tells me with longing.

"I know, sweetie. Next time, I promise."

"But mom says she's done."

"She's not one hundred percent certain and I don't think we're done," I inform her.

"Okay." I hear the hope in her voice.

"Why don't you ask your dad or Leah to bring you over after dinner to come and see your new brother?"

"Maybe I should come after the twins go to sleep," she wisely postulates.

"Good thinking. You are so darn smart, you know that? What on earth would we do without you?" I ask her, buttering her up. She's such a good girl, a terrific older sister. Our family really wouldn't work as well as it does without her.

"Can I talk to your brother now?" I ask.

"Sure, dad. I love you," she calmly responds.

"I love you too, Cori. Can't wait for you to hold him. He's a fatty," I add.

"Send some pictures to Quin's phone so I can see him," she suggests.

Cori has taken to calling Jake Quin, short for Quineayla, to differentiate between him, her biological father, and me, her step-dad. It drives Jake nuts but I love it! It's so appropriate of her to choose very different familial titles for us and he's the jackass that made her call him that name in the first place. I love the sweet irony that it turned against him. It brings a hint of a smile to my face when I see him react to it. Priceless!

"Goodness, why didn't I think of that?"

"'Cause you're in la la land over there from the new baby and his sweet smell," she jests. She obviously remembers very well how I was always sniffing the twin's heads after they were born. It's this amazing fragrance that puts me in a happy angelic 'baby' place. Better than baby powder, that's for sure.

"Yes, we are. Okay, baby girl, let me talk to Brendan," I remind her.

"Okay, dad." She pauses and then hollers for him, "Brendan! Dad wants to talk to you!"

I hear him grumble before he gets on the phone.

"Hey, buddy. Your little brother has made an appearance," I inform him.

"He did? Dids he like me?"

"He does. He loves you and he can't wait to meet you!"

He goes straight into toddler mode, immediately making his preferences known.

"Daddy, since dis baby haves a penis like me, he can't touch it and pull on it 'cuz dat can hurt," he informs me. I laugh at my little guy and his new obsession with his genitalia between his legs. Obviously, my telling him to quit pulling so hard on his foreskin has seeped in. "And he be's sharing nana with me but I get to haves nana fiwrst."

"No, that's not what mommy said. She said the baby gets to pick first and then you," I correct him.

"But it's my nana fiwrst, so I get to," he whines.

"You'll still get nana, but the baby doesn't get to eat all of the other yummy things you get to. Can the baby eat popcorn?" I ask him.

"Yes."

"No, he can't. Can he eat yogurt? Or bananas?"

"No! Dat's my yogurt, daddy! He can't have it!" He is now really irate over the conversation.

"Calm down, buddy. He can't eat anything except nana so you can eat your favorite foods and have some nana too, but he gets more nana because that's all he can eat. He doesn't have any teeth and his tongue only knows how to nurse," I explain.

"No teef? Dat's silly!" he scoffs.

"Babies are born without teeth and they only drink their mama's milk."

"Oh. Okay, dat's still silly that he doesn't gots teef, but he'll like nana. Nana tastes happy," he says. He has a way with words for somebody so little; just a little over two years old.

"Can you put Leesy on the phone now?" I ask him gently.

One twin down, now the calmer one to let in on our news.

"She's eating," he says, refusing to be cooperative.

"Okay, let me talk to Uncle Jake then," I say, regrouping.

He doesn't respond and hands the phone to somebody.

"What's the word, idiot?" Jake answers the phone.

"The word is, I'm going to send you some pics of the baby for the kids to see and then I was wondering if you or Leah could bring Cori by after the twins go to sleep tonight and then bring them all home tomorrow morning?"

"I'm not your damn cab service," he fusses.

"Give me a break; do you always have to give me hassle about every damn thing?" I say, pushing back.

"I'm just messing with you. Yeah, we can do that. Don't send me any pictures of the baby with a breast in his mouth, 'cause that's just gross," he whines.

For somebody who used to touch those breasts, he sure is squeamish. "You're such a woos. You do realize that's the sole purpose of a breast, right? Not to get you off, but to feed the younger version of our species?"

"Yeah, and _you_ don't sexualize them?" He throws it back in my face.

"You know I do, every chance I get, but I don't deny that they're a feeding and parenting tool too. It's a multipurpose tool, joker," I educate the stupid fool.

"You better quit swearing so much. I don't want my daughter hearing your crass language," he muses.

"Forget you! Nobody says the f bomb as much as you do," I quip.

"And nobody actually does the f bomb as much as you do, so I'd say you're way worse." He slams me. "You think she needs to pop out your baby every stinking year."

"Yeah, whatever. I know you're jealous," I taunt, unyielding to his jibes.

"Okay, keep your junk stowed away so she can heal herself down there."

I roll my eyes. "So juvenile," I say. "I treat her right and I don't bug her for sex. I wait till she comes to me." And I do. I didn't ever press her after the twins. She told me when she was ready, and I was more than willing to comply with her needs and wishes. Lucky me, it only took three weeks and she was stripping me down and groping at me in desperation.

"Stop showing off. Oh . . . gotta go. Pizza delivery guy is here," he says and he hangs up on me.

"Such a rude jerk," I mutter to my phone as I click the end button and make a call to my mom.

"Edward? Are you bringing the kids by?" my mom answers.

"Oh crap! I forgot to call you about that . . . Um, actually, Jake has the kids and we have news . . ."

~ooOoo~

"I want to see my babies," Bella tells me, gripping my arm.

"You sure? If the twins come home, you know they won't want to go back over to Jakes," I gently explain.

"I know, but I need all of my children here. I want them with me, and I want them to meet their new little brother," she tells me, eyes brimming and overflowing with emotion.

"Okay, baby. I'll call him up and tell him to bring them all home." I give her a satisfied kiss. I feel the same way. I want them here to bask in the moment as well, but I didn't want her to feel overwhelmed with our kids being loud and running around. This feels right though, her request is right on.

I ring Jake up again and he huffs out annoyed that I'm changing the plan.

Joining Bella as soon as I can, I go back to loving on her and the baby and absolutely glut on having them alone. Well, not quite alone, since Alice is in the room but she's busy doing midwifery stuff so she's out of our hair.

Before long, the front door almost bursts open and Jake hollers out he's leaving after I hear him scuffle their car seats in and sets them in the corner. Doesn't bother to come and see the baby. He's out of here so fast you'd think his tail is on fire. It ticks me off he's being so insensitive. Didn't even say hi, the scumbag!

"Such a pansy," I mutter under my breath and roll my eyes. He basically shoved the kids in the door like he couldn't stand them or us. I shouldn't be offended, but for some reason I am. Very much so.

"He's giving us some privacy," she tells me, patting my arm in understanding.

"Since when does he care how we feel? He's too much of a wimp to see you breastfeed and see a newborn. That man is clueless," I say emphatically.

"You wanted him to see me lying in bed naked with my breasts exposed?" she asks, eyebrow quirked.

I take it upon myself to be affronted for both of us. "You're not naked. You're covered in the blankets. He wouldn't have seen anything that he shouldn't have," I tell her, stewing over it. "He's disrespectful. As my friend, as Cori's dad and a part of this family, the polite thing for him to do would be to ask to see the baby, even if he's not into newborns. Most guys aren't, but still. He has no flipping manners," I say, not bothering to mention that he was once married to Bella. For Pete's sake, this feels like a slap in the face and it does not sit right with me at all. And then none of that matters because I hear Cori gasp behind us in awe.

That's my girl! She knows what's up. A new family member has joined us and that's cause to rejoice.

"Watch the language," Alice warns me.

"You're our midwife, not my mom," I chide Alice.

"Well, your kids don't need to be scarred by your inappropriate language when they're trying to get to know the baby," she teases me.

"Whatever! Your potty mouth is just as bad," I tell her. What is it with people telling me I curse like a sailor today? What the f – I mean heck? I'm not that bad.

"Never said it wasn't," she says with a wink and then she ushers the kids over to Bella and the baby. The twins seem really nervous, hesitant.

I wave them over and help put them up on the bed, warning them not to crowd the baby too much.

Alec is sleeping peacefully and Bella's looking drowsy but not quite ready to sleep.

Cori hugs Bella and they kiss happily, sweetly.

"Mom, can I hold him?" Cori begs.

"Sure," she says and hands over the baby and then covers him with a fleecy cream colored blanket so he won't get cold.

"Remember what we said about his neck? It's very fragile so you have to give him head support," I remind her.

Cori nods then goes back to gazing with awe at her little baby brother.

"Aw, he's so cute! What's his name?" she asks, with a pleased, reverential voice.

"Alec," I say and am cut off by a shrill yell from Brendan.

"I want a turn! Me, me!" Brendan starts hopping and rushing across the bed to the baby.

I pick him up and hold him slightly over the baby so he can get a good look.

"I think he should sit when he holds the baby," Bella says warily.

"That's a good idea, mama," I agree.

We finally convince Cori to let go after several minutes of baby blissing from her.

Leesy decides she doesn't want to hold the baby; she's a little trepidatious over the new arrival.

Brendan, who I was most worried about with sibling rivalry, is beside himself and treating the baby with lots of love and respect. He shushes everybody if their volume is even half a decibel over what he deems acceptable. He is protective of his new sibling. My heart swells with pride over my boys instincts to love and keep his baby brother safe.

Not to long after, he gladly has nana alongside the baby. Bella laughs as she watches Brendan grab his baby brother's hand while they both nurse simultaneously; our son looks gargantuan compared to Alec but he is very gentle and pleased to share the liquid gold. It makes for a peaceful moment and everybody seems content.

Everything feels right, until Alice spreads her crazy around.

"Hey guys," she calls with her sing song chirp. "Wanna help me make some art?"

Cori jumps at the chance and is immediately at her side.

"What kind of art?" Cori asks, eyes alight.

"Birth art!" Alice cries in utter excitement.

"Oh, goodie!" I grumble. "Do we have to do this?"

"Yes!" she gives me a reproving, sharp look of disapproval. Alice looks like she might use her umbilical clamp on an appendage of mine if I don't shut it.

"Bella, baby, stop her," I say, turning to my wife who is logical and understands why I don't want this demented thing to take place. I know what Alice is about to do and it's just sick!

Brendan unlatches out of curiosity and leaves Bella for this experimental art project.

"It's up to the kids," Bella shrugs, letting it go. She is too wrapped up in our chubster lying in her arms to worry about trivialities like twisted birth art.

"This is seriously messed up," I mutter and Alice reaches over and smacks me for pseudo-cursing.

"Ow!" I howl. "Sorry, but it's just wrong on so many levels," I tell her, chastising her for her bizarre need to turn birth into art. We didn't keep the belly cast; Alice did. She refused to throw it out so it's probably hanging up in her office or her home or decorating whatever rock she lives under. I don't even want to know what she does with it. If she turned it into a shrine, then that's something I'm better off not being aware of.

"It is not. It's beautiful," she corrects me.

Bella is oblivious to our banter. She's cooing at the baby and touching his fat little arm over and over again and kissing his slight hand.

"I want to help!" Leesy jumps in.

"Okay, we're going to make placenta prints," Alice begins. She turns to me right away and scowls. "No comments from your close minded father." Her supplies are being strewn out on the floor.

"I'm leaving the room," I joke and pretend to head in the direction of the door.

"Fine, you'll miss how enlightened your children become when you let me teach them something useful," she boasts.

"Enlightened? Useful? That's what you call this mess?" I say motioning to her materials that she has ready at her disposal.

"Yes, enlightened." Alice spreads out some thick newspaper on the ground and then lays out big portions of white paper for the kids. Are these eleven by fourteens? Why do we need it to be so big? Son of a bitch, I'll be having horrific nightmares tonight! Alice digs back at me and my skeptical, disapproving looks. "Be glad I didn't make placenta brownies and make Bella eat it. Some cultures make the mom eat the whole thing cooked in a soup or dessert," she says, giving me her platitudes.

"Remind me why we invited her over here?" I whisper conspiratorially to Bella as I sidle up next to her and the baby in the bed, where all of the normal people are. I join in her admiring our handy work that's suckling beautifully again. Kid is thirsty! You'd think with rolls like he has that he wouldn't be so ravenously hungry. But what do I know?

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Alice starts.

I groan in annoyance. This hippy seriously needs some new hobbies. Her subjecting my kids to this is beyond stupid, it's a waste of paper and time.

Cori doesn't agree; she's mesmerized.

I glance over for a moment and almost want to pack Alice up and send her out the door.

She rubs her gloved hand all over the mother's side of the placenta and spreads a layer of the blood onto her palm. Then she flips it over and coats the baby's shiny side that is all lobed and lumpy.

"Is that blood?" Brendan chokes.

_That's my boy! He sees how disgusting this is and he'll back me up on this!_

Alice nods and Brendan cheers, "Cool! We're playing with dat blood!"

"Oh great," Bella groans now, joining me in my distaste for this little act of 'quality auntie time' with Alice.

"You hold the paper on the edges and I'm going to print it." Alice grabs what looks like a bloody brain and tries to gently maneuver it onto the paper. It plops down on Brendan's and he giggles. "Ewwww! Squishy!"

Alice explains it's called the tree of life as she lifts it off like a freaky version of a giant stamp. She has it stretched out and gazes gratified by the red inked oversized parchment. It does look like a tree but still . . . yick!

"See? Easy!" Alice says full of pride.

"Can I do it myself?" Cori asks.

I give a skeptical look at Bella. She smiles and shifts her gaze down to the baby.

"Sure, get some gloves and you can do it too," Alice encourages.

"This is getting out of hand," I say to Bella.

"They're your kids," Bella responds, washing her hands free of it all.

"My kids? Um, last time I checked they came out of your body and drank your milk. When did they suddenly become my sole property?" I ask her, cocked brows in defiance.

"Since they started enjoying playing with organs and blood. You're the one that thinks the placenta is cool. I think it's nasty," Bella says. I never said it was 'cool.' I think it's interesting a woman's body can make a new organ that is only needed temporarily. Honestly, it's fascinating. She usually says it should be tossed immediately. We don't freeze it and plant it under a tree like Alice begs us to do no matter how hard she pesters us about it. Really, if it were up to Alice, she'd have us do a lotus birth, but that crud's completely out of control psychotic. Bella and I both agree – not happening! Uh uh. The afterbirth should be just that . . . after the birth and forgotten. We are not attached to the placenta, nor should our baby be.

Cori gets gloved and makes her own rendition of the tree of life. She shows Bella and me. I struggle to keep the wrinkle of displeasure off of my face. Bella kisses her daughter and explains gently that this 'art' is not something that we want to show to a lot of people and that other people might not understand its significance to us.

I snigger at her choice of words, since Bella and I can't stand it and want nothing to do with it.

"That's code for don't hang it on your wall, baby girl." I break it down for Cori.

She nods, not upset in the least. The kids help Alice clean up and then Alice finally puts them all to bed for us.

"Thank the heavens she did something helpful," I tease.

"She means well," Bella says kindly.

"She means to drive me nuts and gross me completely out," I correct her.

"You'll get over it," she tells me.

"Doubt it. Now . . . give me some sugar, baby," I tell my wife and she gives me a light, playful smack on the arm and gives it up.

Oh . . . Man, how I love this woman and our new baby. Alice, not so much. Nah, she's alright, but she's still a pain in my . . .

~ooOoo~

**A/N:**

**I promise this is a very different Edward than any other I've ever written or seen. **

**Lotus birth, for those of you who are not familiar, is where the placenta remains attached to the baby through the umbilicus and the parents keep it in a basin nearby. They salt and turn it several times a day so it will dry up and then fall off naturally. Some parents feel this is the natural way (I tend to disagree since even wild animals detach the placenta from the baby right after birth, but to each his own). Some parents believe that the baby feels pain and loss when an umbilical cord is detached. It's a unique perspective on birth that I thought I would share . . . Take it or leave it, but it's already out there so sue me! **

**Thank you all for your love and support in this story. I really appreciate it.**

**Much love,**

**Scarlett**


	2. Chapter 2

**PONY BOTTLE**

**CHAPTER 2: SUBMERGED**

_**EPOV**_

_(A little over a year later)_

"Excuse me? Can I help you?" I offer to the woman in front of me who has a screaming baby wriggling out of her hands.

"Wha . . . ?" she asks in utter confusion.

"I'm offering to hold your baby while you pay for your groceries," I say and then remember that I'm 'one of them', a guy, and so not to be trusted by the opposite sex with children.

"I have four of my own at home. My youngest, Alec, is one year old," I say as I pull up a picture of him on my cell phone and show her quickly.

"Oh, he sure is cute," she says sincerely, trying to balance her child as the cashier waits for her to get her act together.

She looks at my picture one more time and can see my Bella in the background of the picture with the twins snuggled up to her. I watch as she glances at my wedding ring on my left finger.

"You sure?" she asks. For a moment she looks like she's considering it, then she hesitates, eyebrow inquisitively raised at me.

"I'm really sure. I love babies and I'm pretty good with them," I tell her confidently.

"Okay." She relents and I take her very small infant in my arms and do the dad dance: bouncing around, patting and humming gently to soothe the little one.

"How old is she? Two months?" I guess her age.

"Yeah, two months today," she says, impressed by my estimation.

"Oh yeah?" I turn to her little girl. "Today's a good day to turn two months. It's my birthday today too," I tell the baby who has settled into me and is sucking on her hand furiously. The baby starts to fuss. "I think she's ready to nurse," I inform the mother.

She blushes for a moment and then again looks at me in awe that I recognize the rooting signs for suckling.

Flustered, she continues loading her groceries up on the conveyor belt. When she's not looking, I take a deep whiff of the baby girl's hair. Mmmm! I love that spicy, sweet newborn smell. I miss it . . . a lot!

I know what I want for my birthday . . . oh yeah, do I ever know!

The baby yawns and then startles, I tighten my hold behind her neck so she doesn't get whip lash.

"My wife is still nursing our youngest," I tell her, and leave out the fact that Brendan, our middle child is over three and still nursing as well. Tandem nursing isn't something that a lot of people understand, unless they've had a 'high strung' child like Brendan, there's no way they can relate. Bella and I joke that he'll wean the day he leaves for college.

"Wow, really?" she asks, making that 'hmmm, not sure how I feel about that,' with a confused, munched up face.

The baby starts to load up her diaper, and I chuckle at how I'm enjoying something that sends most people into a grossed out tail spin. Newborn poop doesn't really stink, so it doesn't bother me.

"Oh, Gosh, I'm sorry," she apologizes, attempting to take the baby back.

"I don't mind at all. Finish up your groceries," I tell her, greedily enjoying her little one. I turn my attention back to the sweet smelling infant who is grunting and shifting in my arms. "You go right on, fill up that diaper and don't worry at all about me."

Man, this is hilarious and I forgot how fun a little helpless baby is. They make the most animated faces and they are so dependent on their provider to protect and care for them. Their needs are so simple and basic—food, shelter, and love. Amen. I'm the same way, except I tack sex on at the beginning of that list and might shuffle the order around a bit.

I take another lungful – Damn, that scent should be bottled and sold. It was my remedy on a bad, hectic day. My twins tucked in each arm and me inhaling their aroma. It wears off all too soon . . . Very unfortunate.

My eyes subtly roll back into my head in ecstasy.

Jeesh, I really want another baby. But Bella's not keen on the idea . . .

How can I talk to her about this? She's been shutting me down and making us use condoms. I rack my brain on how I can convince her it's a good idea to add to our flock of turkeys, when suddenly the little critter in my arms is yanked free and I feel . . . off.

Dang it! I suddenly want to run home and take Bella back to our room, caveman style and have my wicked way with her and let my seed work its magic.

If only it were that simple.

~ooOoo~

"Happy birthday, baby," Bella says as she takes me into a full body squeeze and makes my body tingle. Hell yeah, she hasn't wrapped herself around me like this in quite a while.

"It _is_ now," I tell her as I kiss her lightly on the nose.

"So, what does my husband want to do for his birthday today?" she asks with a smirk, knowing full well what I want to do.

"You're kidding, right? There's no way . . . we've got all of the kids today," I tell her. Doesn't matter, though, we're creative and we'll figure out a way to get it done. I have to have it! What's a birthday without sex? That's like having a cake without frosting. It's simply wrong! A sin against nature. Right, I'm getting some!

"No we don't. Jake's taking Cori and the twins, until we're done," she tells me.

"And what about the little man?" I ask her. I can't even bring myself to care that Jake knows I'm about to be intimate with my wife. As long as I'm getting some action, Jake can tease me all week along about it.

I go back to my rapid line of questioning, trying to figure out how this is going to work. "It's not like we can give him some Nyquil and hope he'll be zonked for the entirety of the day." Don't tempt me . . . The thought of having Bella all to myself for one day is enough to make me rabid and foam at the mouth with wanton lust.

"Rose has agreed to take him for an hour. Is that enough time to make your birthday a good one?" she asks me as she walks away, and I am left with my jaw hanging open.

"What the . . . ?" I mutter under my breath in disbelief at how incredible she is. I must not waste time; I immediately chase after this wild woman who still makes me crazy with desire for her.

I'm pawing at her and she's giving in, no fight at all from her.

"What?" She turns to me. I'm greeted with a sexy smile that is countered with innocent brown eyes as she takes me in and appraises my whole body. I love that look! "Like you said, I know what you want . . . It's not hard to figure out." That saucy grin makes my knees almost buckle. We've ignored these needs too long.

I stare in utter amazement as she starts packing up the diaper bag, making it hard for me to gain access and grope her like it's my special talent.

"You're serious? Rose is going to take the baby?" I dry wash my face in confusion. Why would she do that? She knows the little tyke is nursing and doesn't do well with somebody else taking care of him who isn't family. He has separation anxiety.

"Yeah, she said Emmett was out for the day anyway. Surfing with your cousin Jasper, I think."

"Does that mean I don't have to worry about my boy coming back home all sugared up since my idiot friend won't be giving him soda and candy?" That's what he does with the twins each time he's around them.

"You can't blame Emmett . . . our kids demand that stuff when they're over there. They know where his stash is," Bella tells me calmly.

I close the gap between us, not willing to wait and mold myself into her backside as I slide one hand around her waist to keep her pinned to me and the other hand slides up and down the back of her thigh, enjoying her sensual legs. I'm a molester and proud of it. But who can blame me? This woman gets more stacked the older she gets. She's got genes that just don't quit giving.

"I can't wait to have you all alone . . ." I kiss her neck and go for her lobe.

She wiggles her shoulder at me like it tickles. Oh no! I didn't shave. I was a lazy punk when I got out of bed and haven't even showered yet. I went to the store to get some milk for the kids and my cereal and grabbed a few other non-nutritious items that Bella would never dream of buying.

"Well, you won't have to wait long," she tells me, "they should all be out of here within the hour so go do whatever you want to set the mood."

"Mood? What mood? I couldn't give a damn what the atmosphere is as long as you're mine and nobody is banging on the door. That's my idea of birthday heaven," I tease her as I start for more and she laughs.

"And who wanted to have more kids? Didn't you tell me two weeks after Alec was born that you wanted to do that again? Regardless of how crusty and decrepit my ovaries are."

"We can talk about that later . . . don't kill the mood. And yes, I wanted all of these crazy kids but that doesn't mean I don't sometimes want a piece of you without any interruptions. That's like gold around here." I lick her lobe, press it between my lips seductively, and she redoubles her efforts to quickly get the kids packed up.

"I'm gonna shower then, babe," I tell her and give her tight tush a swift smack.

"Okay, now you're just teasing _me_," she says with an audible cougar growl.

"Hey, now, it's my birthday and you know I'll do anything for you. Kinky stuff included."

"Wow, that's so romantic," she guffaws.

"Yep, sure is," I tell her, ogling her whole body.

"Dad! Leesy's doing it again!" Brendan yells from the kitchen.

"Ask Cori if she'll help him deal with his yogurt issues," Bella instructs me. "You need to get in your birthday suit and shower."

She gives me the flirty eyebrows and I'm considering her proposal, but if I don't make sure that Brendan's happy before he leaves, then he'll be a little turkey at Jake's.

"I'm coming," I holler through the hallway and before I leave my gorgeous wife I give her very specific directions. "As soon as they are out the door, you are in my bed, naked. No cleaning, no phone calls, no computer. Just you and me, nudity, debauchery and lots of naughty sounds." I pinch my face at her to let her know I'm serious.

"You _are_ deprived, aren't you?" she teases.

"Yes, I am. And I will have you as my cake and ice cream and in place of all of the other delicious artificial flavors that you won't allow to reside in our house," I mock her.

She throws a toddler sock at me, and I race through the hall. I have to get this situation squared away.

"What's going on, my man?" I ask Brendan, even though I already know what his problem is. It's either he doesn't want to share one of his dinosaur toys with somebody or a goon ate his favorite flavor of yogurt. Kid obsesses over food and hoards it like we starve him or something. He's probably afraid his chubby brother will start going to town with solids and the fridge will soon be empty and be barren on a permanent basis.

"Leesy . . . she ate the blueberry one and she knows! She knows that's my favorite!" he howls in outrage and tries to take a swing at her.

"No way! She ate the blueberry one? That was mine! How dare she? And you better not eat my raspberry yogurt, 'cause that's my next best favorite one," I egg him on. Humor almost always helps to get him out of one of these moods.

"Daddy! I'm not kidding. Blueberry is my favorite and I hate eating at Uncle Jakes," he says with a grandiose eye roll.

"How about you bring some frozen Gogurts with you? I think we have a few blueberry ones left," I placate, trying desperately to get him to compromise.

"Fine! Just tell Leesy not to eat them all," he whines at me.

"She won't. That's usually my job." Soon Alec will probably be the chowhound of the family. That kid came out fat and hungry and never looked back. Oddly enough, the kid is not overweight no matter how much he nurses and eats solids. He's thick and solid but has a very muscular, athletic body for a toddler. It's odd to be able to see his calf muscles flex when he's running. The kid's a serious bruiser and he has to be, what with three older siblings to contend with. Not that Brendan really tries to rough him up, since he probably knows he'd lose that battle, but Alec likes playing with Leesy more. She lets him play house with her and he likes to pretend to cook with her. It all requires he be big and burly so he doesn't get run over by estrogen in our house. He draws the line when she tries to paint his toenails green and has not hesitated to push her down when she insists that it's cool.

Of course Jake gives me hassle about that all of the time, telling me my boy's queer since he enjoys helping his sisters interact with the intricate and oh so stylish Easy-bake Oven. I reply using Jake's language and tell him in a way he understands—I flip him off and tell him to go hell—my boy is fine. Alec loves to go out and play sports and anyway, I let him be who he wants to be. Why do I have to pass judgment on my kid who barely figured out he has an apendage between his legs in the last few months? It's ridiculous. Besides, who doesn't enjoy a cookie baked under a bajillion mega watt light bulb? I eat the cookie and ask for another, thank you very much. Queer, my butt. Kid has taste buds and likes fresh baked goods. Nothing wrong with that. Makes him very intelligent in my book.

"How long are we going to be at Uncle Jakes?" Leesy asks me as she comes bounding at me and gives me a hug around my waist.

"I'm not sure. I think a few hours. You wanna bring a movie or something?"

"No. Auntie Leah said we were going to run through the sprinklers so I'm bringing my swim suit and my super soaker," she says beaming at me. She loves hanging out with her big sister at Jake's. She and Cori aren't always very good at including the boys, but they're not overly mean or rude to them so it's fine.

I give each of my kiddos a hug, a kiss and tell them to behave and that if they do, their old man will have the best birthday ever.

Alec cries a little bit when I tell him he's going to Rose's instead of Uncle Jake's but when Bella tells him Rose's going to cook cupcakes with him he quickly rights his attitude and almost waits drooling at the door. Yeah, that kid knows delicious when he hears and sees it. He may have a limited vocabulary but he can say 'cupcake' no problem.

As I head towards my shower, where I know I'll get to have some privacy, I almost feel like that stupid Titanic movie and want to start screaming about how I'm king of the world. Except my boat's not sinking and I won't freeze my junk off while my girl floats away on a door or some pathetic trash.

I hear the faint echo of the front door close, and I almost squeal like a giddy ten year old girl and rush for the shower. Yeah! I'm so gonna get laid, and my woman is going to scream and be louder than anything I've ever heard!

My shower is very nice . . . very relaxing. I get to pick the temperature I want and don't have kids banging down the door. Usually Alec strips and joins anybody that is in the shower because that kid loves the water. I insist it's because he was born in the water, but I know that's not really why.

The twins were water babies too and Brendan isn't like that. But then he's going through the privacy and personal space issues right now, probably because Cori makes a huge fuss if he tries to come into her room when she's changing. Really he's too young to worry about that stuff but I don't see the point in making an issue over it when it's a minor phase, so I let it go.

Alec wants to be included in everything – hence his persistent company for showers.

I revel in the opportunity to shower by myself. I do not mind if Bella wants to join me though. I'm definitely okay with that; it's how we get a lot of our intimate time in. If the kitchen is the brain of our home, the shower is the heart. A lot of private conversations happen between Bella and I in here and the kids seem to bond during bathing time with whoever they are washing with.

But today . . . she won't be visited with a quickie under the spray of the shower. I want her completely horizontal and on a surface where I can get some really good action in . . . Almost shaking with excitement!

I step out of the shower after scrubbing every inch of my body head to toe and wrap a towel around my waist. If I don't see skin on my bed, I may have to change the locks on the doors and not allow my kids to come home until I've gorged myself and Bella on our flesh until we're in a coma.

"Oh my word . . . _You_ are the best!" I exclaim as I walk in on the sexiest woman alive. She's pulled out all of the stops. Her hair is twisted up in a loose knot and she's got on my favorite lingerie: her black garter belt and thigh highs complete with skimpy panties and matching corset. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing her in this getup in what feels like forever. At least two years; before she got pregnant with Alec. Such a shame, because this is pure art in front of me. We've been so darn busy with the kids and there's never enough privacy.

Ohhhhh wow! She's even wearing elbow length satin gloves and has a mask on; she finishes it off beautifully with crimson lips and black suede stilettos that make her legs look endless and more than a tasty meal.

The only thing we are missing are those henna tattoos that used to drive me wild.

"Sorry I didn't buy something new, but this was all kind of spur of the moment. I figured you deserved more than a trip to the water park with our family this weekend."

"I don't care if this lingerie has holes in it. You look spectacular, baby. I'm burning by looking at you." She bites her lip at me through a wicked grin.

She saunters over to me and her fingers dance down my chest. "How can I make my gorgeous man happy? What does he have an appetite for?"

"I'm up for anything," I tell her as I grasp her into me and let my towel drop unceremoniously to the floor.

"Should I get you a condom now or do you want to wait?" she asks me with an excited lilt to her voice.

"No condom . . . Not today," I demand.

"Edward . . . come on. You know I don't want to have anymore kids. I'm too old and there's the risk of Down's since I'm practically a grandma." She tries to talk some sense into me as she rips the mask off her face so I can see how serious she is.

"You won't get pregnant. I'll pull out," I beg her. And what's with the grandma comments? She's not eighty. She's my beautiful, youthful wife that I adore. I hate it when she thinks this way about herself. It makes me crazy!

"No you won't. You don't have that kind of control. We both know you won't be able to stop when I'm wearing this. I . . . crap! I knew I should have gotten my tubes tied already." She curses herself.

"Listen to me . . . Really listen. I know you think you're old, but you're not old to me. If you get pregnant, well, we'll deal with it . . . I would love to get you all knocked up again." I kiss her briefly and then stare deeply into her eyes.

She's already retreating back into reality. The gloves have been yanked off her and she's a step away from pulling on some drab tee shirt and sweats. No. Freacking. Way. I will not allow that to happen. The rest of this lingerie stays on until I can really enjoy it all.

"Are you sure you're Generation Y? Because you act like you're like from a millennia ago and that your sole job as my husband is to keep me impregnated, cooking your meals and darning your socks. Seriously, you think we can fit another kid in this house? We are bursting at the seams. And you know how ridiculously fertile I am. We think about trying, and bam! I'm pregnant. I'll be asking the next baby to fetch my dentures before I sit down in my rickety old rocking chair to nurse the poor kid." She looks at me like I'm demented.

"Think about it . . . Baby, Alec's birth was perfect. Your pregnancy with him was flawless. It was like you were born to have my babies. Nobody's better at being pregnant, nursing or being a mom than you. Can you honestly say that you feel done? I see how happy you are with the kids and with me. Can't we have one more? We'll move into a bigger place . . . or better yet, we'll add on to our house some more. We can make it work."

"This is unreal. You're serious? You really want to have another kid?"

"No, I don't want any old kid. I want you to have my baby and love it like you do the rest of our children. I want to make love to my wife right now and not have to wear a stupid rubber because it plain sucks. I want you to want me so much that you want our love to possibly culminate into another human being," I say, a step away from lecturing. But damn! I love her and I love our kids and this is it . . . probably our last chance to add to our family.

"I barely got my periods back. I'm not ready to make this decision."

"Then don't. Let me make it as the head of the household."

"If I didn't know you, I'd say that's _the_ most obnoxious and sexist thing you've ever said." Her body goes lax under my intense, tight grip on her waist. My lips are doing their damnedest to convince her to forfeit herself to me without any man-made barriers in the way.

"Oh perfect . . . I can smell the newborn poop already. You're going to get me pregnant . . . I'm _so_ not ready for that," she whines as she lets me take her over to the bed.

"Stop being so pessimistic. People have unprotected sex all of the time and don't get pregnant." I gently spread her out for me like my picnic on the bedspread.

"People also like blood sausage," she says, quoting one of my favorite movies.

"Morons . . . Your bus is leaving," I answer in direct response to her line before going after her.

She is trying hard to make me see logic, but all I see is flesh: creamy, porcelain, flawless skin under my hands, under my lips and I want it all.

"You're going to change all of the diapers. All of Alec's and all of the newest addition's . . ." she adds on.

"Whatever you say, sexy mama. Now, give me yourself," I growl. I want to lose control with her. "Enough talk of babies and diapers. I want dirty talk right now. I want you screaming obscenities and telling me how hot I make you. And if I don't get those things, I will be a very upset birthday boy."

I pepper her neck with slow, simmery kisses as I snag at the ribbons that keep her together under that hot corset. Her hands are in my hair and she's practically clawing at my scalp. Yeah, yeah, yeah! Rough, carnal, sensual. My body heats in anticipation.

We haven't had relations in about two weeks which is like ten dog years to me. Bella rarely goes more than three days but we had a camping trip that my mother demanded we go on. She called it a family reunion. We were gone for four days for that and when we got back it took days to get through the mounds of laundry and put everything away. I was backed up with massage clients I had to attend to and then Alec came down with a cold.

"I've missed this," I tell her.

"I love you," she says with a groan and a look that says she's all mine.

Enough talking . . . I take over.

We make a mess with our vigorous session and the stack of books on Bella's nightstand fall onto the bed in the process. I briefly look over and see the book she's currently reading . . . It's 'Good Nights' by Doctor Jay Gordon.

I think nothing of it at first; I'm barely able to think.

I flop down spectacularly onto the bed in a heap of sweat, lax muscle and slow, labored breaths.

As we lay together, catching our breath, the moments of the day catch up to me. Holding the infant in the store, realizing I want another baby to join our family. Knowing that I want more . . . Then in a rush, it all comes together in a moment of post coital clarity. I realize as I look over the book right next to my head, I am cut out for something different. Some livelihood that most blue blooded hetero men would not even think a second about: I want to work with babies. This is where my path was taking me. Here – now. What it all boils down to.

"Bella . . . baby?" I hesitate to tell her what could possibly be disastrous.

"Yeah?" she asks me, breathless and glowing pink and warm—I really like my birthday gift. It's definitely my favorite so far and I can't wait to see what she pulls on me next year . . . and now I'm about to ruin it.

"I need to tell you something," I say, eyeing that book next to me that put the damn fool idea in my head. That idea that is now screaming at me has taken over.

"Did you want another quick round before the kids come back?" She smirks and oh man, she's tempting me. _Very tempting . . . beautiful lady!_

"Well, there is that . . . but no. I want to talk to you about what I want to do," I say, my stomach now in my throat, lodged there firmly in place, not budging an inch.

"Do? Do with what?"

"My life," I say simply.

"What? What are you talking about? Did that orgasm knock a bolt loose in your head or something?" She's teasing but there's a little bit of truth to her words.

"No, this book did," I say, shoving it into her hands. "I want to be him."

"Jay Gordon? He's old and . . . well, old. I don't understand what you're trying to tell me." Her eyes are boring into me and there's an underlying look of panic in them.

"I want to go back to school. I've figured out what I want. I want to be a pediatrician. I love babies and I want to help them. And . . ." She's the one that gushes on and on about how amazing this doctor is. He was the first male physician to become a certified lactation consultant and as consequence has helped thousands of mothers and babies breastfeed successfully and has made the world a better place because of it. He's a well respected pediatrician and has written several books on childrearing. Almost a radical free thinker in many ways. I really don't even know if there is another male lactation consultant in existence aside from him.

I'm about to change that . . .

I've seen how much joy my wife gets out of mothering our children through nursing our little ones, how natural it all fits into our life. I never ever wanted to stifle her need to nurture and comfort at the breast. It's beautiful to see her rock our babies to sleep while they suckle content in her arms. I want every family to have what I do. What I do now is good, but this is better, so much better and I could see myself never growing tired of helping families connect in this most basic but profound of ways.

"There's more?" she asks me, voice elevating in pitch in its execution. She's in full out shock.

"Yeah . . . I kind of want to . . . become a lactation consultant in conjunction," I sheepishly tell her. This is definitely not one of my manliest of moments, telling my wife I want to see other women's breasts so they can lactate efficiently.

She rubs her hands over her face in a crazy, possessed way.

"Baby, we have small children, you want another one . . . and now you're telling me you want to start all over, go back to school and switch careers? Why? You love being a massage therapist and our business is booming. The ladies can't get enough of you and your magic hands and we work from home; this is a well oiled machine we've got going here," she says incredulously.

"I know it's a lot to ask," I say. I'm kicking myself in the butt now. She's probably kicking herself over marrying an infant. She's about to turn forty and I'm putting her life back to square one because I've just now figured out my true calling in life with my vocation. "I . . . crud! This feels right. And just because I am good at being a massage therapist doesn't mean I love it. I don't have the passion for it like you do. I did it because it seemed to make sense and worked for our family. But I'm telling you, this is what I want to do. We'll figure out a way to make it work. Maybe I'll just do school part time and continue working full time," I offer as way of compromise.

"And what? I'll see you when? When would the kids see you? And don't give me that line that you'll study after we are all asleep in bed. That won't fly. You have to sleep at some point. Ugh! You're talking about working yourself into an early grave and you've barely begun your life. You're . . . dammit! I don't even know!"

She gets up, tears in her eyes and heads to the bathroom. The door clicks closed, and I hear the shower start up seconds later.

_Great. Happy freaking birthday to me._

"Huuuuuuhhhh," I breathe a sigh of possible defeat. This is not over. _Far_ from it.

~ooOoo~

**A/N:**

**Any guess on the movie they quoted before they got down and dirty? I use those quotes all of the time (especially the one about the moron bus).**

**I plan to update this story on Wednesdays, every other week. I've written 6 chapters of this fic, but right now I have two other huge writing projects I've gotta get finished before I can get back to this one (and I'm posting 3 other stories simultaneously. Yikes! Somebody get me an oxygen tank in case I pass out!) **

**Scarlettplay**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3: CONCESSIONS AND CONFESSIONS**

"What the hell, babe? I want to talk to you. The kids are all gone. Let's have an uninterrupted conversation for once," I whine, wiping the steam from my face that's accumulating on my skin. Jeez, this is important to me!

She keeps showering. "Take a seat, Bubba Jones. I'll talk to you in a minute . . . I want to finish in here," she says, her tone tight, terse.

"Bubba Jones? What the hell is that?" I curse. It's like I'm talking to Brendan at this point. It makes no sense.

"I'm sorry . . . but you . . . Do you know what I . . . ? Frick! I suddenly feel like I don't know who the hell I married." Her tone is cutting. Harsh. Not my wife at all. At least, not with me. She never takes this edge with me.

I jump up at this admission. I know exactly where her head is.

"Why'd I marry a teenager who had no direction? _That's_ what you're thinking, I know you," I breathe, frustrated as heck.

"No . . . that's not what I'm talking about. I knew perfectly well your age when I said 'I do.' What I didn't know was that you would take what we had worked hard for and void all over it and then walk away without any regard to what it does to me. Why? Why would you do that to me?" The shower door slides open, the spray still loud and continuous. Her face is crestfallen, full of punished anguish.

"Oh, baby. That's not what I'm trying to do," I say, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Hopefully I can make her see; share how I feel in a way that she'll understand.

"What then? I really don't understand," she quietly says, head bent down, eyes to the floor.

"You don't want to understand."

"Yes, I do," she softly whimpers.

"No, baby, you don't. And I don't blame you. Just listen for a minute without interrupting, please?" I step into her and hold her loosely about the waist and gently rock her, soothing her troubled, weary soul.

She leans into my chest for comfort, and I hold her lightly to me, cherishing her sweet heart. How can she understand? It's not her fault she doesn't get it. Even though she's had a rough life in regards to love and men in general before me, she always chose her path and did what she wanted. I didn't realize how passive my life has been until now.

"Bella, sweetheart, I want you to listen to me, really listen with your heart. Can you do that for me?" I coo.

She nods her head without looking at me.

"Okay," I breathe deep and inhale raggedly. The steamy air makes it easier to breathe. I'm hoping to figure out a way to explain so this makes sense. "All of my life, I've been the good guy. Wait, no . . . that came out wrong. Let me try again. Okay," I pause, taking a moment to regroup, "remember when you met me? I was in college, studying, working hard. But do you remember how I decided what my major would be?" I prod.

"Um, yeah, your mom suggested you go into computers since you're good with your hands and you liked tampering with hers and building them from scratch," she says, not sure where I'm going with this.

"Yeah, that's right. She decided for me and I went along with it. Now, I don't want you to feel like I'm blaming you, because I'm not, but if you recall when we started our home operation, it was your idea, not mine. I didn't mind because I am good at being a massage therapist, and I love working along side you. It's been so great spending all day with my best friend, my lover, my whole life. But I didn't choose this path, it found me. I didn't know what my passion or calling in life was because I was new at being a dad and new at being a husband. I was so overwhelmed with our life and constantly in a state of adjustment that I didn't have time to reflect on what I truly cared about. I'm passionate about two things . . . you and babies. I want to help. I see how well our family functions and so much of it is because of you.

"You figured out what worked for you and what was best for our family and I followed along. But I've realized lately it's more than my passive support. I really love it. I love that you're making a huge difference in our children's lives by breastfeeding them, nurturing them in your arms. I want to be more directly involved in helping other families find the peace and happiness we have. It's not fair for me to stay tucked safely away and hide my passion and possible talent. I know what I want, I've finally found it. I can feel it, babe. I need to help babies and their parents. I want to be there for them from the start. And I can't do that without your support. This is it. I know it. I'm a pediatrician, a baby doctor and I want to be a lactation consultant along with it so I know what I'm talking about when I tell mom's they should breastfeed," I say, the weight of the air between us almost stifling.

She sags and a quite moaning sob lifts through the steam and fills my ears.

"Oh, baby! I'm so sorry that this is frightening and hard for you," I say, my heart crumbling under the weight of what this is doing to her. Why can't we both be happy? I just want to be the best husband in the world to her. But . . . I feel compelled to do this.

She's found her path so easily, why did I have to find mine so much later? This would have been easier if I had really dug deep years ago and seen the signs. I should have known the moment my twins came into my life I would never be the same. Cori should have been an indicator. I took to her immediately and glommed onto her when she wasn't even my daughter. I sparked to life in her presence.

"It's not that . . ." She sniffs. Her wet, gorgeous eyes look up at me through sopping lashes and a sweet smile fills me up. "That's the most beautiful, touching thing I've heard! I love you, oh, Edward, I love you! Hold me, baby, hold me tight!" Her arms strangle around my waist and her lips start pounding into my chest.

I got it all wrong. I touched her, burrowed into her soul and she gets me.

I hoped, but I didn't know if she could understand. And she's so beautiful, so much a part of me that she can feel how potent my desire is to make a difference in other people's lives.

"Anything you want, baby, I'll give you anything," I tell her. Her acceptance has sent a giant swell of love and desire through me.

I can make this work. I can balance it all. Find a way to still have this with her and be a good father, and yet be a good student too. Other people find a way to have it all. Why can't I?

"Tell me again, Edward . . . that you love me and I'm important to you," she says, clearly worried she'll disappear and drop on my priority list.

"Baby, I can't live without you. Nothing matters without you. You're the reason that I am who I am. That I've figured out what I'm supposed to do. It's all to honor you and what we've created together," I tell her. "So, yes, I love you, I worship you, woman. You're everything, my whole world," I confess.

"Oh, babe . . . You're so incredible!"

No more talking, we understand. We give and take, make love again. The sweat is mixed with the steam and water, and our love is culminated in our quiet fevered touches.

"Love you," I say, kissing her cheek when we're drifting back to earth.

~ooOoo~

"I'll see you in a little bit," I say with a kiss to her temple.

"I can go get them. I mean, it's _your_ birthday," she argues.

"No, you stay here. I'll go get the kids," I assure her.

"Why are you so sweet?" she complains like it's a problem.

"It's a gift, love," I tell her with a boyish grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.

"You're making me need another shower," she whines.

"Really? Well, let's go then. They can wait," I say, pulling her into me and holding her tight.

"How about I'll try to get the kids to bed at a reasonable hour tonight and we'll have another go. This time we'll take our time," she says, smacking my bum to send me on my way.

We meant to go slow, savor both times, but we got carried away in the heat of the moment.

"Promise? _Birthday_ promise?" I rope her in.

"Really, pulling that card on me? Okay, nice guy stigma is now gone. Lusty guy stigma firmly in place," she says with a laugh.

"Lusty guy never leaves the building. Sometimes he's subdued by nice guy, but lusty guy is never far behind," I tell her. "Forget it, the kids can walk home. I'm too out of it to drive." I pick her up and try to toss her over my shoulder but she squeals and slips out of my grasp. She runs down the hallway, and I bolt after her.

I love my kids, but it's hard to have loud, raucous moments like this when there are innocent listening ears around. And I love hearing my woman so unbound, so free to express her wanton side. Nothing tops her screams of euphoria. Absolutely nothing!

"Happy birthday to me," I say, chasing her down into our room. When I get a hold of her I fall roughly on top of her on the mattress, making her howl with laughter.

"Yeah . . . happy birthday, sweetie." She snorts, she's laughing so hard.

I squish up against her once more, give a tight squeeze and then get ready to head out the door to bring my kids home, happy as can be.

~ooOoo~

"Your daughter flushed a bowling ball down my toilet," Jake teases, but I can tell he's annoyed that it's clogged now.

"What?" I ask, shocked, eyes wide in disbelief. "What happened?"

"Leesy was brushing her hair and noticed that Brendan hadn't flushed, so she pushed the lever down and the brush accidentally slipped from her hand and it clogged it all up," Cori interjects from behind.

"Great!" I bemoan. Didn't plan for this. I shoot off a text to Rose letting her know I might be a little late to get Alec.

Jake gets the final bolt off and heaves as he pulls the toilet from its permanent residence.

"Why didn't you call a plumber?" I ask him. I can't believe he's being so absurd.

"I've got this. I don't need to call anybody," Jake says, brushing me off.

"I'll do this. It's my kid's fault," I tell him, moving him out of the way. The brush falls and splatters spectacularly to the ground before he sets the porcelain tank down.

"Gross!" Cori shrieks and runs off.

"That's just sick!" Jake wails and flees too. The smell is foul and there is all sorts of black sludge sitting atop the gaping wound sticking in the floor, which was once the gateway to the sewer below.

"Apparently I am finishing this job," I mutter to myself. I guess I said I would, but damn . . . He's such a wimp, not even sticking around to see if I need anything to get the job done.

"Leesy!" I holler and she obediently comes running.

"Daddy?" she sheepishly asks. She's obviously very ashamed of what she accidentally did. I don't scold or berate her, the sorrow is written all over her brow.

"Go ask Aunt Leah for a garbage sack and a rubber glove if she has one," I tell her, hoping she'll understand why I'm making her help.

"Okay, Dad," she says, running off all chipper and cute.

The putrid smell is not fun to deal with but it's not so much that I can't handle it.

She jets back in and happily hands me a bag. "They haves no gloves," she informs me out of breath, mixing up her words since she's flustered.

"That's okay. Baby, you might want to leave. This is going to be disgusting," I tell her as I steady myself.

I can see all sorts of crud stopping up this toilet.

"Um, I should clean the brush," she says and grabs it with a shiver of disgust.

"Good idea," I agree.

"Yeesh! Should have called a plumber, stupid Jake," I say, wincing as I pull out all sorts of black goo with a wad of toilet paper standing between my hand and this grime.

I pull out miles of blackened sludge and pile it into the garbage bag until the way is all cleared out. It was the least I could do since my kids messed with his plumbing. If I don't fix it, I'll never hear the end of it and Jake would keep it as ammo against me.

Once I've got it all cleared, I put the screws back in place and maneuver the porcelain throne back to its perch. I bolt it in place with the tools that he abandoned when he left the project in the lurch.

The floor is all grimy and messed up. So, I wash my hands, put away the girly man's tools and go in search of a mop.

I procure one quickly and right the room. Leesy returns holding her nose and hands me the sanitized hair brush that is still wet.

Setting it on the bathroom counter to dry, I shut the light off, return the mop to it's resting place and take my kids before they can mess anything else up for the Black's household.

"Hey, thanks man. Don't forget about the water park this Saturday," I remind Jake.

"We'll be there. And when does your birthday ever end? I swear you celebrate it for like a month," he jibes.

"Birthday week. In our house, everybody gets a week to celebrate because a day simply is not enough," I return the taunt.

We say our farewells, I apologize yet again for the toilet mishap and then Cori decides to stay behind. I give her a kiss and a hug and wrangle my twins out the door. Brendan prattles about playing Twister with Leah and how 'she falls all of duh times.'

He falls asleep on the drive over to my parents to get kiddo number three.

I run in and give Rose a quick recap of the toilet fiasco, grab my crying boy and leave in a rush of chaos.

So much for my serene post-intimate-with-Bella-induced-state. Kids! They beat me into submission and frazzle me, no matter how hard I love them.

"Dad!" Leesy screams five minutes into the drive home.

"What?" I yell back, cranking my head back to see what's got her in a state of terror.

"Alec's out of his car seat!"

_Freaking perfect! Can I curse out loud now?_

~ooOoo~

**A/N:**

**Is this man insane, wanting to add another baby to the mix? No, not really. He can handle it and he's a proud papa who knows how to roll with the punches.**

**I am crushing on this man hard!**

**Give him love by leaving your thoughts on his birthday celebrations. He deserves it after having to dig in the crap hole.**

**p.s. This toilet scene was not from experience at all. :D Well, maybe a little, but it wasn't my birthday and I didn't have to dig in the toilet. But when I had to watch my husband deal with a clogged toilet after one of our kids flushed something huge down the crapper, well . . . I simply had to share the glorious experience, so, you're welcome!**

**Love,**

**Scarlettplay**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4: HYDRO PUMP**

"Is everything alright," Bella asks worried while rushing to open the vehicle's door wide so she can survey the cargo, determining it's still in tact. "It took you a long time to get the kids."

I open it for her.

She looks them all over once they're free from their car seats and slightly resembles a mother hen clucking and picking at them, making sure their all in one piece.

"Yeah, everything's fine," I say, and then she takes in the dirty smudges on my face and clothes.

"Did you join a pig in a sty? You're a mess and you did not leave looking like that," she accuses. She sniffs at my clothes.

I'm sure I smell divine after digging around in a crap hole.

"It's a long story. Let's go inside first," I tell her as I carry Brendan inside. He's out cold and Leesy's drowsy too. Alec goes straight for momma and wants to nurse.

She coos adorably at him with welcoming words and gives him a happy, welcoming hug.

We get the kids all put in their own beds with the exception of the youngest. We take Alec into our bed while I undress and tell her how I wound up playing pipe cleaner.

Bella listens, tongue tied over my description of what happened.

"That bastard!" she finally blurts. "It's your birthday! How dare he make you do that! I'm going to call him as soon as Alec's asleep and give him hell. I can't believe he did that to you!" Her temper rages.

"He didn't ask me too. I did it on my own. It was only fair. Our child did the deed, and it wasn't fair to make him go digging around for it. He already was taking the damn thing apart when I got there. I just finished off the job," I say with a shuffle towards the hamper. If I wasn't so tired I'd be making all sorts of innuendos about cleaning pipes but my energy is sapped.

"Still! You did the worst part. He shouldn't have ever let you do that. He's loaded. Jerkoff should have called a plumber," she storms with a stream of profanities that make me completely turned on.

"Well, hell! Tell me how you really feel about your ex," I say, proud of her and her hot tirade. I haven't referred to him as her ex in so long. He's usually called 'Uncle Jake' for the sake our children. It makes it easier to deal with his inane, unreliable temperament.

"You know I can't stand that idiot," she says, rounding on me. "I really don't know you have managed to be friends with him."

"I do it because it makes our lives easier and it's better for our kids. I do it for Cori and for you. Besides, Jake doesn't really have any friends and he needs somebody besides Leah to hand him his ass and keep him in line from time to time. It's not a big deal. I don't mind him, no matter how immature he is."

"That man has no right to even be in a room with you. He's not even a third of the man you are and I'm so pissed off that he made you dig through his toilet hole on your birthday!" A few more choice curse words are muttered under her breath.

I am ready to shower but I want her to calm down before I disappear. "Hey, baby? Alec can't fall asleep with you being all worked up like this. You don't need to call Jake. It will undo all of the goodwill I worked up. So, let it go. I didn't want him to have this to hang over our heads so I fixed it. No harm, no foul. I'm not scarred or damaged by this experience. My birthday is not soiled, although I smell like it." I give her a peck on the cheek. "I'm going to shower; you relax and get Alec to sleep. Then we can do whatever we want to," I say, giving her the suggestive flirty, wiggly brows.

"You're too nice to him, you know that? And to me," she tells me, determined to get out the final remnants of her dismay over what I was subjected to.

"Thank you, baby. But you deserve it," I say and tromp off to the shower, ready to end the day.

~ooOoo~

"Prepare for the butt canon!" Emmett yells.

"Butt cannon? Do I even want to know what that is?" Bella asks as she takes a seat next to me.

"Yeah, butt cannon." Emmett looks at Bella like she's clearly lacking in a decent, standard education.

He picks up Brendan with one arm under our boy's stomach and the other under his thighs, face down and uses Brendan's cheeks like it's a bazooka and aims his butt at Cori.

"Hey! Stop that!" Cori yells and runs back into the water, avoiding the possible gaseous blast that might emanate out of her brothers behind.

I can't help but laugh at the stupidity of my friend and how much fun he is having with my kids.

When he finishes terrorizing them, Emmett flops down at my side and shoves me.

"What's up with you? You get royally laid for your birthday?" he asks casually.

"Yeah. I did, as a matter of fact," I say smugly.

"Good for you, man," Emmett says, snatching a water bottle off the ground next to me.

"That was mine," I tell him.

"Mmmm, not anymore," he says, chugging the remains.

"Soooo, what's it like to be all old and wise and stuff?" he teases.

"It feels pretty good. I'm going back to school to become even wiser," I tell him, like it's no big deal.

He stops breathing, turns to me like I'm an axe murder and ready to tear into him. "Since when?"

"Since I figured what I want to do with my life. Bella and I have discussed it and I want to go into pediatrics." I look him square in the eye.

"Why? You're surrounded by your own rugrats twenty-four seven. Why the hell would you want to be around other people's kids on top of your own? Did you lose a testicle? Did Bella finally castrate you or something, 'cause this is screwed up, bro," he lays it on thick.

"Well, there's more. I also want to become a lactation consultant," I inform him, figuring I might as well lay it all out there on the line.

"No way! A booby doctor? Well, that's a plan I can get behind," he says, holding up his hand for a high five.

I ignore his stupid hand waving in the air childishly. "It's not a booby doctor."

"You won't see any skin? That sucks!" he grouches.

"I will, but that's not what it's about," I say, not sure how to explain this to my meathead friend.

"What's _it_ about then, Edward, 'cause this all sounds like you've gone and lost a nut and acquired a full frontal lobotomy," he says, waiting expectantly for it all to fall into place.

"I just . . . I dunno. I love being around babies. I love seeing families have what I have. I want to help. I want to be there at the very beginning of a child's life, helping his parents step off on the right foot. It's not fair that so many women are given faulty information and don't know how wonderful it is to mother their infant at the breast. It's what God intended," I say with a rush of breath. My temper is rising. I feel defensive, but suddenly Emmett smacks me in the back heartily like he's proud of me.

"I get ya. I know . . . I'm a big softie too. I love your kids and I can't wait till I have my own. Rose isn't ready yet, but when she is, I'm going to be driving a school bus full of my own little Rosie and Emmett clones. You don't have to explain yourself to me," he says, full of understanding.

And suddenly, I feel free. If Emmett understands it maybe it won't be so hard to share it with the rest of my family and friends.

"Thanks, man. I appreciate that," I say with a nod of my head and that's all we say about my choices and my new direction.

~ooOoo~

"Leah, you don't have to do that," I say, taking Alec away from her.

Is she okay? She's wearing a once piece swimsuit, which really is not like her at all. She seems very attached and attentive to our little one today.

"No, really, I want to," she says, picking him back up, resting him on her hip and taking him over to the racks of life jackets. She fits him up perfectly and gets him situated.

I watch in astonishment as she takes him out into the wave pool by herself.

What the hell has gotten into her? I've barely seen her today.

I turn to Bella, eyes questioning her on what is going on.

"I have no idea. She's been like this the whole time we've been here, barely letting him out of her sight and spoiling the kid rotten."

"Maybe I should ask Jake?"

"You can if you want. I'm still pissed he had you digging around in his toilet on your birthday. Stupid jerk!" she says, no love lost at all.

I glance around for the boneheaded jock but he's joined Leah and they are both having a grand old time in the wave pool with our youngest. I've never been more perplexed by his erratic behavior. Jake shies away from our children when they are still nursing, almost as if he'll catch cooties from them, but today he's frolicking. _Jacob._

Bizarre. The pair of them . . .

~ooOoo~

Bella looks beat – a day in the full sun in summer at the waterpark will do that to a person.

"I suck as a mom . . . I'm feeding them hot dogs," she whines.

I chuckle at how happy our kids are.

"You don't suck. You're beautiful," I tell her emphatically.

Suddenly Brendan yells, "This cooking is great!"

He scares Bella and she jumps from her seat and then starts snickering as she eats her all beef bun length Ball Park frank on whole wheat.

I can see that Bella is a little worried that these types of meals might be more and more of a reality when I start back to school and she has to pick up the slack.

_Oh, baby, I won't abandon you . . . _

"Ugh!" Cori groans. "You two are too lovey dovey," she complains.

"You'd rather we throw knives and forks at each other at the dinner table?" I ask her, giving my mock angry face, V eyebrows included.

I lean over the table and give Bella a huge smoochy kiss.

"Gross, dad!" Cori yells and throws her cloth napkin at me.

"It's not gross. This is the most beautiful woman in the world and she needs to be told and shown," I say with a wink.

"Well, I don't need to see it," Cori says, sticking to her 'kissing is gross' theme. Bella and I are both beside ourselves that Cori's not into boys yet. In a few short years that will probably not be the case.

"I don't care who sees it. If you don't like it, look away," I say with a simple halfhearted shrug.

Cori rolls her eyes and then changes the subject. "When you're done kissing and being gross, I have a birthday present for you, dad," she tells me.

"You do?" I'm shocked. She spent some money on me?

"Yeah, I'm sorry it wasn't done on your birthday but I needed time to finish it," she says and then runs off to her room.

"Did you know about this?" I accuse Bella of being in on it.

"No, she didn't say a word to me about it. I have no idea what she's . . ." Bella gasps when she sees what Cori's carrying. "Oh my gosh!"

"Wha . . . ?" I turn around and see a large black frame in her hands. That's not what has Bella almost in tears. Cori drew a picture of me that's amazing and she painted it with water colors. It probably took her days to make it.

"This is for you, dad. I love you," Cori says shyly and sets it on the table before me.

She signed it on the bottom and wrote a little note: 'To my dad. You show me love, you make life fun and I'm proud to be your daughter, Cori'

And then . . . Oh crap, I lose it.

I'm crying. Crying like a little baby. If the kissing embarrassed her, this, me in hysterics, should tip her over the edge and send her packing and back over to Jakes.

I wipe the tears out of the corners of my eyes and thank her profusely and then get up and give her a big ol' hug, crying and kissing the top of her head.

"We are hanging that up in the living room!" Bella exclaims.

"Hell yeah, we are!" I agree.

"No!" Cori protests. "It's only for you, dad, I don't want everybody seeing it. It's not very good," she says modestly.

I laugh so hard at her silly words. "Girl, this could not be any more perfect. If you won't let me hang it in the living room then I'm hanging it in the office where I can see it while I work all of the time," I offer.

"Fine, living room," Cori accepts.

"I like it," Leesy squeaks, adding in her two cents.

"Me too. Lots and lots of colors," Brendan chimes in.

"How long did it take you to make it?" Bella inquires.

"I don't know. A week maybe? Leah helped me a little," she admits sheepishly.

"You and Leah make a fantastic team. Cori," I look her straight in the eye, "this is truly terrific and I absolutely love it!"

She smiles ruefully and goes back to eating her dinner. "I didn't get a chance to wrap it up."

"You didn't need to. It's perfect!"

The rest of the dinner is spent with me admiring this piece of artwork while Cori tries to deflect and take the attention off her. My daughter knows exactly what to say to make me crumble and turn into a weepy girl.

Boy, do I love my family!

~ooOoo~

I hate my family!

Bella is crying in a heap, and I'm exasperated beyond belief!

Somehow the kids got into the office and they not only used black Sharpie all over our scale, they toppled our massage table and it hit the edge of the desk, slicing open the padding. These things are really friggin' expensive to replace!

I don't usually ever yell, but I am royally pissed!

Bella doesn't stop me.

I put the kids in their rooms and they each get scolded and told they will be punished later when I can figure out what's a fitting consequence. I can't think at this moment when I'm seeing so red.

Returning to the office, Bella's sniffling. She's on the computer, nursing Alec, who is not in trouble; he was napping when all of this idiocy ensued.

I look over her shoulder and see she's looking up replacements for these things.

"Let me see if I can get the pen marks off of the scale before we order a new one," I offer.

"Okay, but we have to replace the table right away," she says, her eyes snap up to mine for reassurance.

"It will be okay, sweetie," I say with a weak smile.

"What were they thinking? I don't understand. They know they're not allowed to play in here. I don't even know how the heck they got inside. I had the door locked." Her head is waving back and forth in disgust. "Jeez, I can't run to the gym while Cori babysits or all hell breaks loose? This is ridiculous!" She throws her hands up in frustration.

"We'll figure this out. You can go to the gym and we'll find out why they lost all brain capacity and reasoning skills. Maybe they were on experimental drugs?" I tease.

Bella chuckles for a moment and then goes back to worrying. "We don't have the money to do this. We need to pay for school for you and—"

I cut her off. There's no point in going down that line of thinking. "We'll be fine. Don't worry about that part. I'm going to look into obtaining some grants. Maybe some scholarships."

"Edward," she says, clucking at me. "We make too much money. Nobody's going to pay for you to go to school and especially not when I'll still be working. And I don't want to take out any loans if we can help it. I don't like being in debt. I'll have to pick up some extra work and maybe go back to the office."

"No, baby. I'll take on some extra clients. I want you to be able to be here with the kids. They need us to be here for them when things are hectic with me in school. They'll really need your calming, centering influence."

She looks at me unsure but then relaxes into the desk chair.

"They'll need their dad too," she adds and touches my hand so softly that I unknowingly put on the arm of her chair.

"I know they will and I'll try to spend every spare moment I have with you and the kids," I reassure her.

Bella gives me a knowing look for a moment and then turns her attention to our little fat nursling in her lap, who is now going back to sleep.

I sigh heavy with guilt. "They did this because I'm already not giving them enough attention, didn't they?"

She doesn't answer with words but her eyes say it all as they look heavy and full of concern.

"Maybe I need to wait before I go back to school," I say, feeling weighed down now too and full of self loathing for being the cause of my family already feeling turmoil when all I've been doing is getting ready to sign up for school. But I have been fairly obsessed. It's all I've been talking about since my birthday week ended two weeks ago.

"They're jealous," she tells me simply.

"Jealous of what? That I'm excited about something? That I'm ready to do something really good with my life?" I whine.

"Yes, they're jealous. They see that look in your eyes and they feel like they're not the most important thing in your life anymore." Her eyes soften in understanding. "Cori acted out when I first started working at the office. I wanted to talk about the great people I was meeting and how much I loved what I was doing. She started biting kids at school and almost sulking. I didn't understand why she was acting that way when she was always so well behaved before that. She never said a word to me at home but I could see the resentment and pain in her eyes when I went on and on about my day."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" She could have spared me this aggravation.

"I wasn't thinking about it, and our kids seemed fine. If I thought they were upset, I would have pointed it out."

Why do I have to learn this stuff the hard way?

I rack my brain over how the hell I'm going to make sure my kids get plenty of dad time and don't feel neglected.

"Maybe I need to have dad time with them on Saturdays, where they get my undivided attention."

She smiles in satisfaction as I try to work this all out in my head.

"I think they'll probably get possessive and want you to tuck them in each night and maybe read stories. I don't think a Saturday morning will be enough for them," she tells me.

"Okay . . ." I suck in a heavy, anxious breath, worried I've already bitten off more than I can chew or handle. "I can do that. I'll go talk to them now."

~ooOoo~

"Does that feel good?" I ask.

"Yes, daddy. I don't like my feet though. That's too tickly," Leesy tells me.

"Okay, I won't massage your feet then," I agree.

Leesy smiles at me adoringly. "Now, sweetie, can you tell me while I rub your belly why you were in the office today?" I try to keep from accusing and just listen attentively.

"I wasn't," she says, and the guilt is plain as day. Her lower lip quivers a little, and so she bites it to hide the evidence. She won't look me in the eye.

"You didn't go into the office and knock over the massage table?"

"No! It was Cori," she says, turning red now.

"Oh yeah? Cori? Why would Cori do that?" I press for more information as I lovingly massage her tummy.

Her stomach tightens with shame, and I take that as a cue to move onto her arms. I grab the oil and slick up my hands some more.

She lies on the towel, gulping in streams of tainted air. Why is she lying to me? She's never done it over something big like this before.

I look her straight in her eyes and ask my pointed question, "Are you mad at daddy?"

"No . . . but Brendan is and he dared me to color on the walls. I didn't want to," she cries.

"Where did you color on the walls at?" I ask, holding back the fury that I'm feeling. I didn't see markings on the walls anywhere.

"I climbed behind the couch and wrote under the window with the black marker," she admits and bites her lip hard, worried that she's busted now.

"I see . . . and did you color on the scale?" Her eyes frost over and moisten. "You can tell me. I won't yell anymore," I reassure her. "I won't get angry. I need to know though, sweety."

She blinks, and I lightly stroke her arm and loosen my grip so that she's relaxing into my touch.

"We both did. Me and Brendan. We played with the weigher and then we thought it was ugly so we colored it." She looks terrified.

"Would you like to help me clean it up?" I ask dryly.

"Mmhmm, and I can help sew the table," she offers.

"We bought a new table. We can't fix that one. It cost a lot of money," I tell her. "Mommy was crying. How can you make her feel better?" I switch to her other arm and massage small circles into her wrist and push lightly on a pressure point there that helps to relieve stress.

"I can pick her flowers?" she asks with a shrug, unsure if that's the right answer.

"Do you think that will help her know that you're sorry?"

"I don't know," she says, trying to placate me.

"Well, if some kids came into your room and colored on your favorite doll house with Sharpie and then slashed your bed to pieces what would make you want to forgive them and not be mad at them anymore?" I really want her to understand that what they did was not right!

"I would cry a lot," she says, not able to think her way through it. She starts crying herself.

"Would you trust those kids to be in your room anymore?"

"No!" she wails and then climbs up into my lap.

I pepper her with kisses and hugs. "It's alright, baby girl, but you have to promise me that if you're mad at me that you will tell me and not destroy stuff. That's never okay to do."

She nods yes as she soaks my shirt with tears and clings to me like a little baby monkey. "Brendan said you didn't want to be with us anymore and that you like other stuff better," she confesses. "We jumpded on your table a bunch and then it fellded over. When it ripped we ran away and hid. Cori founded it and she cried too."

"Did you tell her sorry for getting her into trouble?"

"No! I was scared!" she cries.

I gently push her at arms length so I can look in her eyes. "I love you, sweetie but you have to say sorry to Cori and to mom and to me."

"Okay," she sniffles. "I'm sorry, daddy. So sorry. I love you, too."

She gives me a wet little kiss on my cheek. I tell her I forgive her and she promises not to do that again.

We make the rounds and she apologizes. I tell her that on Saturday we will spend it repainting under the window and trying to erase the ugly marks on the scale.

Hopefully she's learned a lesson.

Now to deal with my son . . .

~ooOoo~

**A/N:**

**And so it begins . . . He's going to have his hands full. And yet he figures out a way to show love even when he's angry. My goodness, I love this man so much!**

**If I tell him that I wrote with a Sharpie on my right boob, what do you think he would do? (I really did do that for my test and it wouldn't come off for a week no matter how much I kept scrubbing it! It must have been an industrial strength marker or something!)**

**Leave him some love or hate. It's up to you. Just don't trash his office 'cause the poor man still needs to make money to put food on the table for his big family while he's hitting the books and trying to forge his own path.**

**See you in 2 weeks.**

**p.s. One of my kids invented the butt canon, so don't use it until I patent it. Then after that it's fair game.**

**Scarlett**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5: MATINEE**

"I'll see you next week," Mr. Bradshaw says as she leaves after our massage session is over.

"Yep, I'll be here," I say, dying to have some lunch. I had four clients back to back with no breaks between.

"You are such a doll. That Bella is one lucky lady," she coos.

"I'll tell her you said that," I tease.

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear it," she says with a chuckle.

Grabbing the towel that hangs nearby, I wipe most of the oils off my hands so I can lead her to the door and gently hustle her out.

She's one of my flirtiest clients, and also one of the oldest. The moment she found out my wife was significantly older than me, she tried to capitalize on it. It's annoying as hell. But I put on a good face and distract her as best I can.

I step through the office and walk slowly to the bathroom so I can wash the remnants of oils off my hands before I have some lunch.

I stop to listen and find myself smiling as I hover in the hallway.

"Look, mommy, dat soap is bubbly," Brendan tells Bella as she scrubs the toilet.

"What color is that soap?" she quizzes him.

"Gween," he insists. "And I don't think it's soap. It's juice."

"You can't drink that stuff. It's bathroom cleaner. Do you wanna know what it's called?" She goes along with his running commentary on the bathroom cleaning experience.

"No. I don't weally cawre," he says with a shrug.

She leans over to scrub further down the toilet and his hand suddenly shoves up her shirt.

"Look, mommy, my hand is up you shiwrt."

Oh, man, I cannot stay out of this kind of action.

I gently maneuver behind her and spoon her directly. She startles when I shove my hands up her shirt too and grope her. "Yeah, look, mommy. My hand is up your shirt too," I say smartly.

She starts giggling and wiggling around to shake us off.

Her hands are wet and gross from toilet scrubbage.

"Will you two stop?" she says with a boisterous laugh. "You're going to wake Alec!"

"He's napping. Then I need to bring this to the bedroom, quick!" I hassle her.

"Are you done with your clients?"

I breeze my fingertips over her sensitive spots.

"Nice . . ." I purr at her body's reactions.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," she razzes back.

"Mommy, I'm hungwy," Brendan whines.

"Maybe daddy can make you a sandwich since he stepped out of the office to eat . . . _food_," she says, accentuating what I will be putting in my mouth.

"I am pretty hungry for a shake," I taunt her as I go back to groping her more aggressively.

"Sorry, the shop's closed," she tells me with a mock frown.

"Well, good thing I have a key so I can have unlimited access," I say, being a smart ass.

"Dad-dy! I'm hungwy! My tummy is hungwy!" he grouches.

"Fine, little man. We'll go eat," I concede.

He tags along to the kitchen and opens the fridge like he owns the place, which he does, for the most part.

"What do you wanna eat?" I ask as I pull out the fixings for a turkey sandwich for me.

"I want what you have," he says pointing to the meat.

"Okay, I'll make you a sandwich too," I say as I stretch my back a little. It's kinked a little from bending over and working with some of my pickier clients who like deep tissue massage.

"No, not a sanitch. I only want dat!" He points at the meat again.

"Ok-ay . . ." I don't argue. I pull out a slice of organic deli meat and roll the sucker up and slip it into his fat little fist.

"And I want a squawre of cheese on a plate," he demands.

My man knows what he wants.

I hand him a little saucer and he immediately turns it into a hat.

"Look, daddy, I have a hat!" he announces proudly.

I laugh, no energy to get him a new plate without hair oils on it. I figure my little rug rats eat food they find on the floor sometimes if I'm not fast enough, so I shrug it off. It won't kill him.

"I also want some of da cold water like you have," he says, pointing to the pitcher of cold water in the fridge.

I grab his water bottle and start filing it up.

He gulps it down greedily the second I give it to him. His turkey meat is already gone.

I pull out a square of cheddar cheese as I'm assembling my own sandwich and give it to him.

He trots along with it in his hand happily.

"Silly kid," I muse out loud.

Bella joins us in the kitchen, puts away the cleaning supplies and locks them away, washes up her hands real good and gives me a little goose for my trouble.

"I need to start joining on the bathroom cleaning activities more often," I flirt with her.

"You never wanted to clean the bathroom before," she says coyly.

"That's because I didn't know it meant free access to boob-town," I say as I wink at Brendan.

He laughs and waves at me, oblivious to the content of our conversation.

"Why were you cleaning the bathroom just now anyway?" I ask, taking a bite of my sandwich. She usually does it on Monday. It's Thursday, which means it's been cleaned twice this week. Was somebody making a mess in the bathroom?

"Two reasons. One, I'm spotting. And two, I was throwing up this morning. I didn't want to be sitting on the toilet a bunch where I was upchucking. Oh yeah, peeing a ton too."

I smile at her. "You're . . . ?"

"Yeah, you big dope." She pulls the pee-stick out of her pocket and hands it to me. Two pink lines blare at me. "You're welcome."

"Oh, baby! You're gonna love this pregnancy and this baby, I just know it!" I cheer.

She smiles and lets me hug her like a moron as I dance her around the room.

"I love you and your messy kids," she teases.

I kiss her and we are interrupted by pleas for more cheese and meat by Brendan.

Damn, this good news needs proper celebrating.

Bella gives me a coy smile as she makes her way out of the room.

"I'm gonna go take a quick nap before you have to get back to work," she hollers on her way out of the room.

I finish feeding Brendan lunch, then Leesy and wish I had time for a quicky with Bella, but my next client is due in a few minutes.

Against Bella's wishes, I prop the twins up in front of a video so they won't wake her. Alec is still napping soundly, and I'm sure if he wakes up, she'll nurse him back to sleep.

Man, my life is soooo good! Another baby! I should give my boys in my pants a nudge of a high five for being so virile and potent.

~ooOoo~

"How far along is she?" I ask Alice, bouncing out of my chair.

"I already told you I'm barely past two weeks," Bella reminds me at our first prenatal visit.

I want to hear it from our midwife. Bella didn't even want to come. Too early along, but I pushed the issue.

"Two and a half weeks. Jeez, Edward, what's your deal? It's not her first pregnancy. She knows these things," Alice reprimands.

"I know, but I . . . wanna figure out the timing of all of this. I'm due to take my IBLCE exam in July. So . . . let's see . . ." I start running through the mental math.

"The baby will be about four months old then," Bella says.

"Wow, that's perfect!" I say.

"Perfect for who? What are we going to do?" Bella worries.

"You'll figure it out," Alice encourages, petting Bella's hair like she's a small child in need of comfort.

"I'm sure we will, but we need a bigger house which means we need more money. And he needs to cut down on clients so he can study for school and this monstrous exam. I'm already vomiting, which makes me worry it's twins again since I wasn't really sick at all with Alec," Bella bemoans.

"Not necessarily," Alice chimes in, "it could be a sign it's a girl."

"But I wasn't sick when I was pregnant with Cori," Bella corrects.

"Yes, but you were much younger then and it was a different father, so different genes," Alice reassures.

"Yeah, what she said," I say obnoxiously, trying to act the moron so Bella will laugh.

It works. She shoves me over for being such a dork while she laughs at me.

"I need to work. I wanted to go back to the office so he can do school," Bella says, upset at the way things are already turning out.

"We can always use the doptone next month to listen for two heartbeats to be sure," Alice says.

"I don't know. I'll think about it. You know how I feel about ultrasound," Bella says, yawning.

"How _we_ feel," I say, backing her up. "Maybe we should just wait and see. If you start measuring real big like you did with the twins then maybe we could consider doing a scan."

Bella waves her head weakly yes. She's exhausted.

Weaning Brendan isn't going so well. He was up half the night crying, he wanted to nurse so badly. It's already feeling uncomfortable for Bella to nurse him. She's not sure she wants to tandem nurse at all this time, so she's contemplating weaning Alec as well.

It was logical to start with the older child first.

"Go home. Take a nap. Try to take it easy on yourself, mama," Alice says, peering into Bella's eyes and smiling sweetly.

Bella hugs her after she hops off the table and drags herself to the door.

I receive a hug from Alice too whether I want one or not, and go to help Bella out the door.

On the drive back Bella's quiet.

Is she asleep?

Her forehead is pressed up against the window. She's not moving.

But then . . .

Her hand moves to her face and swipes at something.

Oh no, no, no. She's crying.

"Sweetie, what can I do?" I ask, heartbroken that she's not happy about this pregnancy. I figured once she saw Alice it would all change.

I was wrong. And she won't look at me—stays focused outside the car.

"This isn't what I wanted," she says. "I didn't plan on this. I'm getting too old, and I can't even stand the thought of being sick. Our family will fall apart if I'm throwing up constantly and barely able to function. We can't both be there less for our kids. It won't work. You need to be around less, and I need to step up my game at home. But what if I can't?"

"We have family to help us. Cori's older, and the twins aren't helpless. I can have Alec with me sometimes when I'm with clients and—"

"Stop, Edward. Just stop. This isn't anybody else's problem but ours. We created this mess, and we have to live in it," she says, finally turning to me. Her eyes burn with sadness and are brimming with more tears.

"Mess? You call this a _mess_?" I shake my head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, but I don't see it that way. I call this life. Glorious, sometimes complicated, but oh so much fun, rollercoaster of a life. I like that we find a way to handle the tough stuff. I mean, you gave birth unassisted no problem. If you can do that, then we sure as hell can get through this. It's only eight months. And if I need to wait and take the IBLCE exam next summer instead and start school up again later then that's what I'll do."

"No, baby. I don't want that. You shouldn't have to wait because of me and the kids," she says, shaking her head now.

I pull the car over into a Circle K parking lot and park so we I can look at her as I talk. "Listen to me, Bella." I cup her cheek and rub it lightly with my thumb. "Our family is more important than schooling. That stuff can wait. I can work full time and even take on extra clients so you can rest and take good care of yourself and the baby."

She smiles weakly then cups her hand over mine. "You are the sweetest man ever, but no. You sacrifice all of the time. You know what you want and you've shared your dream with me. It's time for you to go and get it," she says.

This time I can hear the pride in her voice.

"Then that's what we'll do. And I know my mother will want to help, so let's not discount her over pride. She knows what it's like to be overwhelmed as a mother. She'd love to have the kids over more often. Let's work something out with her. I'll make a tentative schedule when we get home so you can nap, I can work and maybe study too. We can see if this is all feasible or not," I offer.

She kisses my palm tenderly and tells me she loves me.

I pull back out of the parking lot and we wind our way back home.

When we step inside Cori is drawing, and Emmett's reading the twins a book while Alec is playing with his puzzles on the ground.

Nobody's sugared up or passed out, so it's all good.

I decide Emmett might need to be in the loop too of possibilities for help.

He doesn't mind helping out for short periods of time.

I think Bella also needs to start up yoga again. She's more relaxed and focused when she's working out regularly and doing her relaxation exercises.

~ooOoo~

"You really made a schedule?" Bella balks.

I nod. "Of course. I want you to stop worrying, and I know you like to be organized," I say.

She rips it out of my hand with an eye roll. I smile like an idiot. She sits on the edge of the bed while I hover over her, standing with my hands in my hair.

Her eyes roam over my plan without any emotion whatsoever.

"Yoga?" she croaks.

That's it? That's all I get for my spread sheet and schedule?

I laugh. "Yes, yoga. What of it?"

"We're barely going to have time to sleep, eat, and breathe and you throw that into the mix?" she asks incredulously.

"Yes, baby, I did. You need to be able to exercise and feel great this pregnancy. It's not like it's a huge stretch to ask Emmett to come over three nights a week for an hour and twenty minutes so we can go together."

Her eyes go really wide. "You're going with me?"

"Yes. We need to have a date night, and I remember how much we enjoyed it in the past. I'm kicking myself for ever letting us fall out of the habit of going." I pause. "Check my schedule on the back."

She flips the page over. A wicked grin spreads over her face. "This is . . . I don't even know."

"It's good, right? I'm taking everything into account," I say, beaming at her.

"It's overkill is what it is. A little too formal too," she says, laughing and shoving the papers back at me.

"Why? I want to make sure the kids don't feel neglected. I want to spend time with you and make sure this is a great pregnancy for you. What's the problem?"

"Nothing," she says, snorting a few giggles here and there.

I smile back. How can I not? I love her laugh. It's very infectious.

I grab her up into a vicious hug and pinch her can. "It's not funny. It's caring."

"It's adorable is what it is." She rubs noses with me and then gives a peck. "A daddy date with each of the kids each night of the week that we don't have yoga. I have no idea how you're going to fit all of this in. Apparently I married Superman."

I give her a squeeze and let her go.

"They don't have to be long dates. Thirty minutes to an hour of whatever they want to do. Some times they might just want me to be in their room playing with them for a half of an hour. I'm offering my undivided attention to every member of our family. This way I'm not ignoring anybody. The twins won't act out. Cori won't be left out because she never complains. And you . . ." I growl, taking my shirt off. "Will never want for anything, sexy mama. Especially when you need my bedroom services. That takes top priority."

I give the flirty eyebrows.

Her libido has began to pick up steam in the last few days, and it's only a matter of time before she's insatiable. One of my favorite parts of her pregnancies.

She follows suit. All of the kids are in bed. The house is quiet, and we're alone. Hallelujah! Who knows how much time we have until either Alec or Brendan wakes up whining to nurse.

I don't care. She's mine!

All mine!

"C'mere," I demand.

She saunters a few paces forward and then smirks. "Why?"

"You know damn well, why, woman. I'm going to remind you how that baby got inside you," I growl and tackle her to the bed.

Thank goodness I had the forethought to lock the door, because I'm gonna make her forget all of her troubles over and over again . . .

Maybe she'll even scream my name, but not too loud. Don't want to wake the kids.

My lips find skin and I'm purring like a cat, content and happy to be stroked and loved.


End file.
